


Cat Bones

by Lagerstatte



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Catboys & Catgirls, Character Death, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Status Effects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-06 19:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/pseuds/Lagerstatte
Summary: Confusion put Ignis to sleep and smelling salts broke him out in hives. Being poisoned didn’t seem to affect him until hours later when he was retching uncontrollably, and an antidote only made it much, much worse.The kicker was toad, though. Because apparently cat hybrids don’t turn into toads. They turn into cats.





	Cat Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saisei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/gifts).

It wasn’t actually surprising, Prompto figured. They couldn’t forget Ignis wasn’t human, with the tail and ears, but he wasn’t like the catboys in movies (or porn) either. He wasn’t _different_. Why wouldn’t he react to status effects and curatives the same as everyone else?

But confusion put him to sleep and smelling salts broke him out in hives. Being poisoned didn’t seem to affect him until hours later when he was retching uncontrollably, and an antidote only made it much, much worse.

The kicker was toad, though. Because apparently cat hybrids don’t turn into toads. They turn into cats.

\---

They didn’t even find Ignis until after the fight, when Noct happened to look up and see an ash blond scrap of fur clinging to the upper branches of a tree.

He had the same ears and tail, if smaller. He also had the rest of the deal: long and slinky, four legs, whiskers. Claws to dig into Noct’s arm when he warped to grab him.

They had maiden’s kisses. But was it really worth it when they were probably going to do something bad instead of curing him?

‘Better not,’ Gladio said. Ignis’ tail lashed in a familiar way.

\---

Ignis lounged over Noct’s shoulders, but hissed and swiped at anyone who tried to touch him. Noct talked to him like he was normal, but Prompto had to wonder if he wasn’t... just a cat. Or maybe half-way. He was pretty sure real Ignis would want to walk by himself.

What if he never got better? It was cute, but when they piled into the caravan, night falling, Prompto couldn’t help but worry. What if he was just a cat and he ran away?

‘Maybe we should keep him inside,’ Prompto said, but was overruled. 

Next morning, Ignis was gone.

\---

They did LOST CAT posters. They told Cor, who said the Crownsguard would keep watch. On day three, Prompto came back from searching and found Noct, red eyed, scribbling in a notebook with Umbra waiting nearby.

‘He’s probably dead and it’s my fault,’ Noct said. ‘There’s no way a cat can survive out here.’

‘Dude, that’s not true,’ Prompto said, and meant it. The at fault part, anyway.

Maybe Ignis got picked up by someone who knew how to keep cats indoors. Maybe he was surviving on superior hybrid wits.

Maybe he really was dead.

That night, Prompto cried too.

\---

Three weeks later, Ignis found them.

They were camping; Gladio kicked Prompto awake, and Prompto was ready to bitch at him until he saw the curled up ball of fluff in the tent entrance.

Ignis’ ear was torn and his tail kinked. Broken, the vet said. He had fleas, tapeworm, conjunctivitis, and was severely underweight. Had he had his shots?

‘Uh, yeah,’ Noct said.

He healed, gained weight, lost the parasites. They got a pet carrier and spent a fortune on caravans instead of camping. He let them pet him, and even purred sometimes. He still wasn’t turning back, though.

\---

They administered a maiden’s kiss. It made Ignis cough and tear about the caravan for three hours.

He was clever for a cat, but he still wasn’t Ignis. He couldn’t communicate, not even blink-once-for-yes. That night Gladio sat and stroked his head and missed him so fucking much — his dry wit, his sensible suggestions, the way he cared for all of them.

‘We can leave him with Iris,’ Gladio said, and was ignored.

Noct slept with Ignis curled up by his head. When awake Ignis stuck by him, as if he knew who and what he was meant to be.

\---

Noct was gone for ten years. Ignis made it eight.

‘He was the best mouser in Lestallum,’ Prompto said.

‘He had a good life,’ Gladio said. ‘He seemed happy.’ Which is what you said about _pets_.

They visited his grave before heading to Insomnia. It was a human grave, but Noct could imagine the small, fragile cat bones buried there, curled up as if in sleep. Maybe already rotted away.

He guessed he’d hoped, but at least he was an expert in coming to terms with shit, now.

‘Hey, Specs,’ Noct said, heartsore and tired. ‘Thank you,’ and, ‘I’m sorry.’


End file.
